


Doubt Truth To Be A Liar

by Smushed



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Arguing, Cheating, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fist Fights, Heavy Angst, M/M, Marriage, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 05:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18584755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smushed/pseuds/Smushed
Summary: Rick and Morty move on with their lives in separate directions, but as the years go by they can't be alone together without fighting. They're finally forced to face their demons, and with that, unleash their true feelings.





	Doubt Truth To Be A Liar

**Author's Note:**

> The lil links are for songs on Spotify I would highly recommend reading along with the songs. <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

Rick Sanchez and marriage in a sentence made tears, actual _tears_ stream down Morty's face. Of laughter.   
  
Morty fumed as he read the _‘thank you from Mr & Mrs Sanchez'_ card that arrived in the post. Below the glittering animated font was a picture of Morty and Jessica just before Rick and Unity’s wedding reception. Jessica was holding Morty's hand with a small proud smile and the photography raptor caught a glint in her engagement ring but not one in her eyes.

The concept of holy matrimony was like a cosmic punchline for a joke Rick had been sat on for nearly seven decades, that cynical, nihilistic, _selfish_ bastard.

Morty thought that maybe Rick had fucked himself in the head with the amount of alcohol he'd drank. That just maybe, he had finally managed to shrink that gargantuan mind because how could he go back on every passionately disinterested thing he'd said about _love._

Morty was a patch of grass that every organism with a brain cell walked over with studded cleats without even considering what they've stood in. But to flip off the memory of Bird Person like that? Rick's _best friend._ Morty had only earned the title of ‘side kick’ and ‘human shield’ as Rick’s own living, breathing, devoted grandson, _whatever_ , he was used to being the universe's doormat. But, _Bird Person?_

Morty had heard countless briefly skimmed traumas that Rick would drunkenly slur to him. All that he and Bird Person had endured together, for what? For Rick Sanchez to watch his loyal avian friend be carelessly assassinated, deleted like the blip on the multiverse’s windshield Rick Sanchez was so frightened of being a part of to just go ahead and get married-

It pissed Morty off.

He had used every ounce of technology of Rick's he had learned to use to make sure Rick wasn't merged with the hive mind, to see if he didn't have a psychoactive brain slug sucking away at him somewhere, to make sure that he was _him,_ Rick in his usual _not-so-right_ mind and not this- this- _this-_

“Fucking asshole.”

Morty tossed the thank you card back in his mailbox face down and pretended he didn't even see it.

 

 

 

_________

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

[Never Let Me Go](https://open.spotify.com/track/14DOjrov1D6f2fEA1ZRji3)

 

“Had a daughter - j- _OUGH-_ juuust like me,” Rick said, matter of factly. There was no pride or humour in his voice, Morty grit his teeth, it was the same tone Rick used when he declared he was going for a shit when things got too boring.

“Yeah.” Morty glanced at the moses basket and gently rocked her in it, she eyed Rick curiously, being just over three months old let her start distinguishing colours and because of that she couldn't stop staring at Rick's wild, spiked, blue hair. Morty was watching her with a swelling heart. Every time Rick moved his head it mesmerised her, her little hands were grabbing in Rick's direction and each time Rick looked down into the moses basket to face her she would smile. Morty offered a flat palm in offer for Rick to pick her up.

“Young too, like your mom, y-you're only, what- two years older than her when she had Summer?” Rick added, Morty wasn’t smart but basic 2+2 maths was just borderline insulting.

Morty rolled his eyes, his grandfather's remarks on his intelligence stopped bothering him recently, he could barely spare a tut in the old man's direction. Being nineteen with everything he ever needed wasn't comparable to his mom's achievements. She had a career path waiting for her that she selflessly sacrificed to raise her children and even then she still excelled, going from heart surgeon to horse surgeon sure as hell was a greater accomplishment than Morty had ever achieved, and she did that all on her own. Everything Morty had ever attained was through his grandfather. All the general knowledge of cultures and science that made him remotely interesting, every memory from beyond this world were from Rick, not that any of that mattered now they didn’t go on adventures anymore.

Rick gave Morty the key to a secure future when Morty was approaching seventeen. The hypertelescope was thrown at him unceremoniously just after Rick proposed to Unity. Morty watched with some strange voyeurism as Rick packed up the garage, Beth couldn't even acknowledge it. Rick didn't spare a glance as Morty clumsily caught it against his chest, Rick treated it like an invention left forgotten at the bottom of an old box.

“W-what’s this for, Rick?” Morty held it in his palm, it was cylindrical and fit comfortably in his hand. It’s sections obvious to pull out so that it could extend.

“For you, dummy.” Rick wasn’t making eye contact, he shrugged as he packed up some of the last of his shit. “I found it in one of my old projects, you can keep it.”

Morty rolled it around in his hands, it had a round glass end that held some beautiful pearlescent colours of pastel peppermint green and coral pink, the sheen when the light hit it a certain way made it look iridescent. The invention itself had an element of Rick that suggested it was made with some sort of relaxed enjoyment. Like the ship.

“Oooor…” Rick stacked the boxes just past the line of the garage. “... Sell it and make _bank,_ baby!” Rick looked around the empty garage, hands on his hips. Morty tried to come into his line of sight and failed, Rick brushed some dust off his shoulder and taped up one of the last of his boxes.

“Make money?”

“Astronomers would have a raging hard on just for something a fraction as powerful as that, a-and it's cute and pocket sized for your enjoyment. Patent it and make a mill, Morty.” Morty wanted Rick to just _look at him,_ was it sympathy? Pity, because Morty was failing his exams?

The teen was hurt but he couldn't explain why, it was _nice,_ so why did he feel so miserable about it? Morty held it with two hands, like a diploma he would never have. Rick couldn’t have left the garage any quicker than he did, he didn’t even glance back as he escorted the last of his boxes towards his portal on a robot platform. Morty clutched the telescope tight as he watched the green swirl swallow Rick into his new life. 

Morty had followed Rick’s advice and his life clicked into place like twisting that last line on a Rubik’s cube, picture perfect on every side. Only it felt like he hadn't solved it himself. It felt like he'd cheated, peeling each coloured sticker off and placing them in their correct places, painstaking and _fake._

Rick was right, Morty patented the blueprints after a couple of months and his fortune was instantaneous. He became rich and successful, only it wasn't a mill, it was a couple. Morty submitting Rick's blueprints helped astronomers understand a tiny fraction of this galaxy in this dimension a little better. Morty couldn't help but adopt his grandfather's cynical mindset as he watched the astronomers like kids in a sandbox, if only they knew how tiny this part of existence was, and that it was absolutely pointless.

“What’dya call her?” Rick asked, snapping Morty from the memory as he watched Rick obliging the offer to hold his daughter. Rick scooped his long arms into the basket and picked up Morty’s baby, still wrapped in her blanket. He tucked it back under her as he pulled her to his chest, an action so natural to Rick, Morty tried not to read into it. The picture of his grandfather holding her against him did something to Morty that he couldn't name, especially with that look in his eyes.

“Erica.”

Rick snapped his face up to look at Morty as violently. He stared at Morty as though he'd just said the most offensive thing in the world, a battle flared behind his grandfather's eyes as he flicked them between Morty's. The microexpressions Rick portrayed were ones Morty had witnessed countless times, and he could spot the tiny telling signs of them a mile off. The first look reminded Morty of the times where he life or death tier fucked up, the way he would scream at him ‘what the _fuck_ , Morty’, the other half of Rick’s expressions were from a look that was reserved for the very bottom of a whiskey bottle and a late hour stumble into Morty’s bedroom.

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

___________  
  


 

 

“You sure you don't want to do anything tonight, Morty?” Jessica frowned, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We could go out for dinner tomorrow? I'm sure Summer would love to babysit, she always complains she doesn't spend enough time with Erica.”

“I'm sure, I-I-I don't really feel up for anything right now, I'm pretty tired, y’know?” Morty watched Jessica's face deflate, she tried to cheer him up so often with little reward, he felt guilty. “Dinner tomorrow sounds great, Sweetie.”

He offered a weak smile and Jessica returned it. “Sounds like a date.” She pecked him on the cheek before she went upstairs, probably to check on the baby then go to bed. She was a good mom.

Morty’s birthday wasn’t a day he celebrated anymore. Not since Rick went off planet. Turning a year older with more money than he had sense to do with, having a beautiful wife and child, everything was boxed off neatly, _perfectly._ Yet the one thing he wanted, he couldn't have. A drink with Rick on his 21st birthday.

He sat alone in his modern kitchen, below the spot lights of the breakfast bar, the rest of the house in darkness. The house was lonely in its size, maybe he should oblige Jessica in having another child, maybe the rooms wouldn’t feel so big and empty, maybe they could have a boy and really repeat the cycle.

He raised his glass up to no one and sighed to a toast; to another long and healthy year. He brought the glass to his mouth and before the amber liquid touched his lip a whirring sound made a light feeling simmer through Morty’s belly. _He remembered._ Morty watched as his dark kitchen lit up in vibrant citrine greens and turned to see Rick come through a portal.

Rick looked around and his steps slowed down, he quirked his brow. “The- where the fuck is your party at, Morty? Jeez, y-you’d think with all that money you’d be able to throw a half decent get-together.” Rick came up to Morty and sat on the stool beside him.

“I-i-it’s not a party without, y’know, all your glip glops and stuff.” Morty finished his glass of whiskey and got up to fetch another tumbler. He sat back down and refilled his own, pouring Rick one, too. He tried to hide his relief that Rick remembered, and more than that, had bothered his ass to come away from his happy life and visit.

“Oh, yeah. The hangover from that party was pretty rough, I practically needed those six months of frozen time to get over it, speaking of, Morty, you might wanna slow down on that-” Rick shot him a look of concern with the speed of Morty drinking his freshly poured glass, Morty pushed Rick’s closer to him.

“I learned from the best.”

Morty’s terse statement caused an awkward silence, a thing that was slowly becoming more common for them whenever they were alone together. Rick kept glancing at the glass that Morty poured for him and then back at his grandson.

“You know I don't drink anymore, buddy.”

Why was Rick bettering himself making Morty so fucking angry? All the times he had picked Rick up from the garage floor, kicked Rick out of the driver's seat before he drove them into a black hole or dropped a neutrino bomb, the countless times he stopped Rick choking on his own vomit and stayed up all night to make sure he was still breathing - why did _Unity_ get to enjoy Rick's sober years, the _easy_ side of Rick when Morty suffered through all of it, for what?

Rick watched Morty's silent but expressive face  before finally deciding to hold it in his hand. He didn't lift it to his mouth.

 

 

[ Without You ](https://open.spotify.com/track/2SvIwED5a6xYm5S9s8wvsC?si=gsPHNo4XRV63kgJc7bqQeA)

 

“Y’know- how we were back then? I mean, do you- do you miss m-miss it? How I felt-” Morty was looking at Rick, his long gangly frame lounging on the bar stool and leaning on the island but just staring at his untouched drink, Morty saw his hand tighten on the glass.

“ _Morty."_ Rick said in warning. The muscle by his jaw tightened, Morty did this far too often and it was unravelling the ever fraying edge of the relationship they had.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“I've been here five seconds, why do you do this every time you have a drink?” Rick growled, his upper lip curled in disgust.

Morty huffed a short laugh, Rick _still_ couldn’t look at him. “Can't you just answer me? You _knew,_ didn't you?!”

“Oh, Gee Morty, you're being too vague. I have no idea what you're talking about.” Rick patronised as he got up and took his glass with him. Morty was half hopeful for him to take a sip, he thought Rick had honestly looked at the glass with more longing than the old man did with his wife, but all he did was pour it down the sink and refill it with water.

“How I felt! You knew it, didn't you?” Morty’s glass hit the counter top hard as he put it down to stop his shaking hands.

“So w-what if I did?” Rick looked up at Morty, standing parallel to him under a bright spotlight, he had a quirked brow and Morty could see Rick's mouth through the bottom of the glass as his grandfather took a generous swig of his water like he used to do with whiskey.

“Y-you didn’t give a shit, huh?”

“What do you want me to say? I knew you had a stupid high school crush-”

“Don’t- don’t fucking belittle how I felt about you, Rick!” Morty stood and grabbed the whiskey bottle, following Rick around the breakfast bar to the sink. He snatched Rick’s glass and poured the water away, refilling his grandfather's glass with whiskey again and shoving it into the old man's chest.

“What, Morty? You didn’t have a fucking clue how you felt! Listen- I-I didn’t come to see you for you to harp on-”

“Don’t tell me what I feel! I-I _loved-”_

“That was it, was it? You know what you’re confusing love with? You were just a horny teenager who spent too much time following me around.”

“Says _you,_ Rick, remember what happened after- when you woke up after trying to disintegrate your own head-!”

“Because I _drank-_ Morty!” Rick grabbed his glass and this time he lashed it with its contents into the sink, the glass cracked uneventfully in the basin.

“When you drank you _felt something-_ who the fuck _are_ you? Why won’t you- just let me tell you about how I felt!” Morty, still holding the bottle, began to square up to Rick.

Rick continued as though he couldn’t even hear what Morty was saying, voice holding so much venom the air became toxic. “What- that you can’t get-get your dick up without thinking of your _grandpa_?” Rick seethed, standing tall and keeping his ground.

“I-i-is that what you fantasised about?” Morty sneered back. “Your grandkid jerking off to you?”

“-did you think of me when you came? Did you think of me when you made your baby?”

“Did you marry Unity so you could stop yourself from fucking your underage grandson?” Morty’s vision honed in on Rick, tunnelled with his adrenaline blurring the outside of his vision in a dreamlike fuzz. Rick was right there and he wasn’t even looking at him, Morty rushed him, closing the last space between them but Morty’s voice had sounded so much like Rick’s that it struck the old man with horror when he heard it. Rick had shoved him without a second thought, _hard,_ and all he could think of was it felt like he was attacking a younger version of himself.

Morty was stunned as he stumbled back and caught himself from falling with a hand on the kitchen wall, the other holding the bottle in the same way Rick used to infamously accessorise himself with. He ran forwards and swung for Rick, who dodged him easily, the bottle of whiskey in his other hand sloshed.

“Yeesh, this is just _painful to watch,”_ He mocked as Morty came at him again, this time the teen got a good grip and yanked the lapel of Rick’s lab coat downwards, Rick bent his knees to stop himself falling. With his grandfather's face close and below his own, the adrenaline and anger unfurled as Morty lifted the bottle up to Rick’s face. The old hands tried to swat it away but Morty’s grip was vice like and his resolve was solidified with resentment as he poured the whiskey onto Rick’s mouth.

Rick sealed his mouth shut and the alcohol poured over his lips and scattered along his face, Rick scrunched his eyes and Morty saw each wrinkle and crease reveal every year of Rick’s age. Morty watched as his grandfather's face transformed, shifting from anger to fear then hurt all in a second but it was when Rick opened his mouth to try and breathe--

Morty heard the sound of breath struggling to fill Rick's lungs against the onslaught of spirits, the sound of choking stopped Morty in his tracks like he had just woken up from a nightmare. Regret doused Morty’s whole body as Rick brought the fight-or-flight fist into the side of Morty’s face. Morty accepted it reverently, an action to condign Morty of his despicable behaviour. He accepted Rick’s blow and kept hold of Rick’s lapel as black stars filled his vision, his grip on Rick’s lab coat was imploring his grandfather to hit him again.

Though Rick was ready to hit him again he watched as the incredibly vascular face poured with blood down Morty’s eye and cheek. Seeing how he’d split the skin on Morty’s brow made Rick blanche, he wiped the whiskey from his face with the back of his sleeve, standing up tall and unreachable again. Morty was slumped, Rick's hand held Morty’s wrist painfully tight until the hand that gripped his coat eventually let go.

Both of them were winning because both of them were losing.

The silence was deafening, the droplets of whiskey still rolling off Rick’s coat were the only sounds before Rick shot a portal behind Morty. Rick walked past and didn’t look over his shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, Morty.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

___________

 

 

 

  
  
  
  


 

 

[ To Build A Home ](https://open.spotify.com/track/54KFQB6N4pn926IUUYZGzK)

 

Morty, just fresh off the heel of his eighteenth birthday, was waiting in the entrance to the chapel, shaking his hands out and inhaling slowly through his nose. His exhale was shakier than he would have liked, and he was wondering why he was sweating so much. He knew his fitness wasn’t what it was when he was fourteen, running through countless interdimensional universes, but this was ridiculous. He brought out a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his head with it.

He swallowed, and the muscles in his throat forgot how to do something so damn basic, what if this was the inherited beginning of Rick’s famous spittle on his chin? Maybe this was how it started.

“Cold feet?” The gravelly tone of Rick’s voice startled Morty, he turned on his heel to see Rick dressed sharply, he was fresh faced and his chin was dry. It was still a relief to see him.

Morty shook his head out of instinct. Whenever Rick asked if he was still okay to do something, he always was, he was always ready to jump. Rick rolled his eyes as he came forwards and Morty flinched as Rick reached and grabbed his bow tie.

“Ca-can’t let your dream bride see you with a wonky bow tie. What kinda best man would I be?”

Morty was trembling and Rick could see it.

“Y-y-you’re young but that's okay, Morty. Let yourself be happy for once, y-you lil turd, always worrying.”

Once Rick had adjusted his tie, he smiled and stepped back, he reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket only to bring it back out empty handed. Morty expected to see that silver flask and it looked like Rick had expected to feel it there, too. Rick smoothed his hand down the front of his suit jacket instead, as though that was what he intended to do initially, the sight of that old uncompleted habit made Morty inhale sharply.

Rick noticed Morty notice, and as that small moment nearly escaped, Morty grabbed onto it. He hugged Rick firmly. The embrace was sharp and sudden, he had practically thrown himself into Rick as though the quicker he did it the less time Rick would have to react and push him away. He didn’t even care if Rick hated it, this was maybe the first time Morty had ever genuinely hugged him, _like he didn't want him to go_.

But then Rick’s arms came around Morty’s back and held him tight, he couldn’t breathe. Rick's hands gently smoothed across the back of his shoulders, the most soothing gesture he had ever bestowed on Morty. A genuine embrace, Rick's body was surprisingly comfortable and warm. Morty invited himself to move his hands under Rick's suit jacket to hug him closer, he felt Rick's back through his t-shirt and gasped, the rise and fall of Rick's torso was captivating. Morty never wanted it to end.

“Looking around this packed room, it's surprising just how far some people are prepared to travel for a free lunch. Lucky for you Jessica got to choose the food, otherwise y-you'd all have organic carrots five ways.” Rick looked around the room and held his glass of champagne up. The bubbles rose in slow motion.

“Now I am supposed to use this opportunity to recall embarrassing moments to ridicule Morty... But I’ve been put under strict instructions not to mention how many times this little jerk spoke about Jessica. And just look at them now.” Morty stared at his own glass, holding Jessica's hand, smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes. “I-i-it’s not easy being a part of this family, but Jessica, you’re in good hands, Morty is the best of a bad bunch.”

“A toast, to the happy couple.” Rick raised his glass higher and everyone around the room said cheers. Beth was crying, Morty could read her lips as she spoke to Jerry. She said she was proud but Morty knew it was for her dad, not for her son. Rick had been sober since his own wedding the year before. He put his champagne glass down without taking a drink and sat beside Unity, both of them smiling and looking into one another's eyes. Jessica removed her hand from Morty's to clap at Rick’s speech.

Morty was horrified at how plastic it was. He continued to watch Rick, waiting for his grandpa to glance in his direction, to acknowledge him, but he didn't. Morty considered that maybe he was going crazy, it was all in his head. Rick reached into the inside of his jacket pocket again and pulled out his empty hand and he held the table with it instead.   
  


 

 

 

 

 

___________

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh my god, Morty, what are you doing?” Summer came into his kitchen and looked horrified at the sheer amount of food he was preparing. “Can't you like, just pay someone to do all this?”

Morty, sporting an apron so he wouldn't ruin his neatly fitted shirt, had a home made salsa in a bowl, homemade nachos cooling on an oven tray and was shredding his spiced chicken.

“Well, you know. Mom always cooked for us, even when she had a long day, I-I-I just wanna do something nice for her.”

“You bought them a beach house Morty, you pretty much don't have to do anything else.”

Morty didn't have a response, in reality, he kept himself busy so he didn't have to watch everyone awkwardly make conversation. He should be happy really, the family were getting along better now than they had ever been. He was starting to regret hosting his Mom’s party because he didn't exactly have an excuse to leave his own house if things got a bit much for him. Morty glanced up out the kitchen window, Jessica was playing with Erica on the swingset, now two years old, she was starting to look just like her mom.

“You never did tell me how you got this.” Summer poked him in the eyebrow, and it took Morty a second to register what she was hinting at. His scar.

“Oh? I-i-it's nothing.”

Summer struck her famous pose, folded arms, glowering at Morty in a _I'm your sister, don't lie to me_ kind of way. She was the only one who ever noticed if something was up, he ignored it. Morty walked out the open patio door, taking out the bowl of chips and salsa and placing them on the bench. Rick watched Morty set it down but went back to looking Unity in the eyes. It was a beautiful day for a celebration and his Mom seemed to be enjoying the red wine he bought in for her.

When he came back in Summer hadn't budged her expression and he sighed.

“You don't have to tell me, Morty. I'm here for you though… It’s so weird seeing you both… With your shit together. Something bad must have happened between you.”

“That's the thing. _Nothing_ happened between us, Summer.” Morty smiled, thin and sad.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

_______

 

 

 

“I've been worried about you for a while, now, Rick.” Unity had smoothed her hands along Rick's lab coat lapels. “Since…”

“Your birthday, Morty.” Jessica had upturned brows and cupped Morty's cheek. “Something is different and I'm pretty sure it's whatever happened between that night… I saw the broken glass. Will you please try and… Try and fix it, Morty? Erica will have a brother or sister soon, and I want… I want your grandfather to be close to our kids. Please?”

Morty reached down to Jessica's belly. She never did show in the first trimester.

“Sure, honey. You're right… I’ve been distant. I'll put my old hang ups to bed, for the kids.” Morty looked up at her genuine concerned eyes, glossy and hopeful. “And for you.” Morty kissed her head and he felt Jessica sigh pleasantly, cupping her hand over Morty's on her stomach.

“I'll give Unity a call and arrange it.” Jessica hummed as they embraced.

“Good idea, Sweetie.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


______________

 

 

 

 

 

[ Wicked Game ](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qZVVN9arDWwNVS8onFB7k)

 

Jessica and Unity had arranged Rick and Morty to meet up. Unity had portalled them both into the old Smith household, now mostly empty of anything that had signs a family used to live here. No pictures on the walls, just the same worn old furniture.

Unity said she would be back tomorrow, and she took the gun with her so Rick couldn’t just leave. It made sense, they had no incentive to stay if things got heated again, without the portal gun at least they didn't have the convenience.

All the furniture was the same, Morty traced his hand along the back of the couch.

“I suppose… I suppose we should-” Morty tried to find a beginning as he turned to face his Grandpa, who was watching the corner of the living room where he and his toxic self had battled all those years ago.

“I’m sorry, okay? For what I- what I said that day.” Rick’s apology was flimsy at best, he didn't make eye contact as he said it. He just couldn’t look Morty in the face, _still._ Why, _why, why wouldn’t he look at him?_ And why the fuck was _he_ apologising?

It was done with a flat, lineless expression. No engravings by his eyes or his mouth, no carvings in the stone of his features to tell Morty anything other than absolutely _nothing._ Morty would have prefered the raving lunatic who leaned over him, drooling over his face with manic eyes because this one, this expression frightened him far more. That robotic look, the one that made Morty suspect he was a replacement Rick from the day he walked down that aisle with Unity. The apology was void of any feelings just like the best man’s speech Rick did at Morty's wedding.

Rick finally did stop thinking about it. Morty inhaled shakily and Rick visibly cringed at the idea of Morty crying.

“No, I don’t _want_ you to be sorry, Rick because this-this fucking scar on my head i-is the only evidence I’ve got that you’re still _you_ in there!”

“You’re being ridiculous, Morty, sooo fucking melodramatic, can’t you just be happy? What else do you need? Look at what you’ve got around you!”   
  
“Since when did I ever give a shit about money? I-I-I’ve worn the same unbranded jeans and shirt since I can remember and I never needed anything but -”

“Don’t say it, Morty!”

“I’ve never needed anything but _you!”_   
_  
_ “Get your head out of your ass, Morty. I-I was talking about your _wife,_ your daughter, you pined after her before you even realised I was even alive and you’ve got her! Y-y-you have everything your dumb little ass could ever even want!”

“Oh, thanks to _you!_ E-e-everything I have is because of you,” Morty was glad he wasn't at home because he would be tempted to start smashing up pointless materialistic nonsense.

“I said _need_ though Rick, not _want!_ I needed you! _”_

“You’re making me regret _ever_ coming back.”

“...That's why you gave me that stupid blueprint, isn't it? So you could palm me off and not have to feel responsible for my happiness.”

“You ungrateful little shit,” Rick clenched his teeth together. “In case you're forgetting, I also said you could just _keep it.”_

“I did! I kept the fucking thing!” Morty fumbled into his pocket and procured it. Rick stood in disbelief that Morty still had it, the original one, and his stunned silence transformed into fury.

“You really are so fucking _stupid,_ Morty!” Morty struggled to believe what he was seeing, he stepped closer, wide eyed as he watched Rick's eyes go glossy, betraying the old man's snarled features.

Morty’s breath escaped his lungs like a punch to the gut, the look on his face must have said more than any words could have because Rick stood back and realigned his emotionless face from daring to show Morty anything other than vacancy. The expressionless face hurt Morty more than anything else in the world. He would take mangled legs any day, not _this._

“I-I-I’m sorry, Rick. I-I remember it all so vividly, and I can’t help it- I can’t forget all those moments. I can’t stop thinking about them, maybe even more now than I did back then, what we had-”

“They were nothing, Morty, I can’t even remember, I was a drunk.”

“No.” Morty choked, refusing to shed a single tear for this cold heartless bastard.

“Y-you should probably just go.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t care.” Rick turned and went upstairs, and without a second thought, Morty followed him.

Rick could hear each footstep of Morty’s echoing his own but his hearing had dulled behind the racing beat of his heart, it sounded like everything was underwater. Rick’s instinct to reach into his pocket was strong and he couldn’t stand it, especially in this house, especially as he walked into what used to be his old bedroom and his cot was still there. He couldn’t cope with this. Morty haunted him like a ghost. He climbed fully dressed into bed under the mothball scented old scratchy covers, facing the wall, and he wasn’t surprised at all to feel Morty climb in behind him.

“ _Morty_.” Rick warned, and when there was no answer he turned in the bed to face his grandson, that warning sting in his voice ready to strike again.

Rick still wouldn’t look at him, his eyes were at Morty’s clavicle but there was no bow tie there for him to fix. Morty closed the gap between them, the springs in the bed creaked and he pushed Rick’s chin up. Rick still wouldn’t look. Morty took both of his hands and caged Rick’s face either side, forcing it, urging with a strong grip, his eyes pleading. And finally, after all these years, Rick looked at him.

Rick scanned every feature of Morty’s face, how it had grown, how the scar had healed thin and mild yet wholly noticeable as it struck through his right eyebrow, he was Morty in every single way, those hazel eyes, even in the dark, glinting passionately with admiration and so many fiery emotions that the years did nothing to dampen down and _Christ,_ Rick wasn’t ready to see the light in them. The starry gaze that was pinned on him, _it has always been for him._

Morty’s heart swelled in his chest, it felt too big for his ribs, too heavy with all the things he wanted to say.

He leaned and pressed his head against Rick’s, scared to look away in case Rick stopped noticing him. Their noses brushed and Morty could feel Rick’s hot breath as it danced across his cheeks. Morty’s hands ran into Rick’s hair, one of the features that made him stand out a million light years away, always a beacon for Morty to follow, his fingers ran through the blue strands and Rick’s body shuffled back a little, spreading the gap. Morty opened his mouth to speak and with no warning whatsoever Rick kissed him.

 

 

 

[ Choir To The Wild ](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W4uQYLOgPCIRdzH4kIORe?si=pZjznhnASv2c9nWovufQSQ)

 

Morty fell through to the center of the Earth. He was on fire. He was glowing. He kissed Rick back, Rick swallowed the sound like the black hole he was. Horror and guilt tinged Morty’s stomach. How could he be willing to throw away his life for Rick? But had always been ready, he was always ready to jump.

When Morty tried to close the gap between their bodies, Rick pulled away and shook his head. “What the fuck am I doing.”

Rick shook his head again and he pushed Morty’s shoulders, arms outstretched and palms flat, keeping him away.

Morty tried to get closer but Rick was still so abnormally strong in his age, an involuntary sound escaped Morty as he struggled, he ended up straddled on Rick’s hips and brought his arms between the ones holding him away. Morty pushed his forearms against Rick’s wrists and his arms fell away reluctantly and Morty grabbed his grandfather's hands, leaning down to get close again.

The only relief Morty had with Rick’s change of heart was that Rick couldn’t stop looking at him.

He wanted to beg but he was scared because every time he had in the past they ended up too angry to be near each other. Rick flinched as a fat teardrop dripped from Morty’s chin and landed on his old cheek. Morty was just as surprised as Rick to see he was crying silently, and so Rick stopped resisting.

Rick let his grandson come down and press their chests together. Morty ran his fingers through Rick’s hair again and shuffled his body down until he was sat on Rick’s shins. With a sure grip he took his hands to Rick’s belt. Those old hands tried to stop him weakly, even with shaking fingers Morty got the buckle undone. He curled his fingers under the hem of Rick’s trousers, Rick tried to shuffle away, Morty’s weight on his legs made him struggle and before he knew it his cock was free from his trousers and Morty’s hands were on him. Rick was sat up, curled like a crescent moon and shaking as he fisted at the back of Morty’s t-shirt.

Morty had never done this before. Time was so still. When Rick’s grip tightened on his yellow shirt he lost his resolve and took Rick into his mouth. Rick gasped and Morty could feel his legs quivering below him, Rick was scrambling at Morty’s back, one hand was trying to pull him off, the other gripping the back of his neck tightly and Morty dipped his hot mouth as far down as he could go.

Feeling Rick’s solid flesh against his tongue, the mild smell of him, neutral yet distinct made Morty bury his nose further so he could get as much of it as he could. It was nostalgic, a smell he associated with Rick and hadn't realised how much he'd missed it, Morty didn’t care that he couldn’t breathe because he had Rick holding him as he did it. The thought of Jessica and Erica made his guilt rise and he finally pulled off. Rick was angry, looking at him with passion, and Morty was relieved. To have any feeling Rick would throw his way, like a dog for scraps, he’d take it all gladly.

He got off Rick, the roll of horror at what he was doing burrowed into his belly, writhing angrily. He had a _daughter_ and a pregnant wife and he was cheating in the worst possible way, he was cheating and it _meant something_. He was panting as he sat back against the wall, this time, he was the one who couldn’t look at Rick.

Rick crawled up to meet him and he placed both hands on Morty’s knees. Rick's mouth was a tight thin line as his hands scaled down the sides of his thighs and this time Rick was demanding Morty's attention. This time, it was Rick who pulled Morty’s pants and boxers off and threw them across the room to join his shoes and socks. Being stripped down by Rick like this was like a dream, Morty’s eyes were burning dry because he was so scared to blink.

Rick kept Morty's knees raised as he leaned forward with a serious expression, Morty felt emotionally and physically flayed open as he kept his naked legs parted, feeling the heat of Rick coming between them. Tones of anger and a multitude of emotions littered his grandfather's brow. Rick kissed him again, quick and hard, Morty pressed himself into the wall for fear of floating away and watched as Rick sucked his own long fingers into his mouth. Morty gaped at the sight and Rick's forearm came up and pinned Morty against the wall with his arm across his grandson's chest.

Morty felt something against his ass and fidgeted as Rick pushed into him, any sounds his throat attempted was absorbed with Rick’s mouth again, this time Rick licked Morty's tongue.

Morty wanted Rick to take everything, every molecule and fibre of his existence, it was all here because of Rick, he tasted his grandfather after all these years.

Morty had to grab at Rick’s lab coat lapels, squeezing with the pain of Rick doing this to him now after all those moments they had lost. He parted his legs best as he could in this position and Rick found a sensation Morty had never felt before, a new feeling.

Those long deft fingers pressed inside of him and stretched him open, guiding Morty’s body to accept him. The burning stretch was slowly simmering away and being replaced with a pleasant friction, a needy itch that Rick was scratching every time he moved inside of him then he pulled away- scrambling off the bed, stepping backwards as though he had been possessed and that wasn’t him, Morty knew better. It was Rick. There he was. Finally looking at him, seeing him properly. Morty stood and removed his t-shirt, and each step Morty made towards Rick the old man backed away with equal measure until he couldn’t. His back was against his old bedroom door.

Morty stripped Rick with the same care he would his daughter, peeling the clothing away gently, slowly. He just wanted to touch him in every which way he could, drawing his lab coat from his shoulders and slowly peeling every garment off until Rick was naked. They stood staring at one another, their naked bodies went unseen because their eyes were locked. Morty leaned in to kiss Rick this time, holding his neck and watching Rick’s crystalline eyes flicker like aquamarine. Their bodies pressed flush, Rick shut his eyes at the feeling of their erections smoothing together, sliding down the door and guiding Morty down with him to sit in his lap.

Morty grabbed Rick’s lab coat from the floor and wondered if he kept it in the same pocket, of course he did. It was for his inventions, a small syringe of lubricant and Morty felt, on some level, that he was Rick’s own invention.

Morty slicked Rick and using his knees to leverage himself, lined him up to his entrance, it was something he needed to give to Rick. He held Rick’s eyes, who looked at Morty, pleading and firm and resigned but all dedicated to him. Morty sank down and the two bodies went taut and clung tightly together, the world dissolved to leave them in their own chasm of existence where no one else mattered. It was just them two. Morty sank down until he was sat in Rick’s lap, they buried their faces into each other’s necks to hide their faces as they adjusted to the intensity of it.

They laced fingers and moved so slowly, rocking against each others existence. Their heartbeats hammered in their own ears and loud uneven breaths were the sounds they moved to, desperate to never let go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

__________

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

[ I Held You Until The End Of Time ](https://open.spotify.com/track/4FKWYJNZknGGBnidwNqKDs)

  


Morty couldn't sleep. It turns out he was insomniac, but with someone interrupting the sleep he oh so desperately needed as a teenager for a couple of years, was it really a surprise? He was out in the back garden, the graves of the Rick and Morty they had replaced in this dimension overgrown. He pulled out the telescope. The recreated blueprints were done with that mass produced, impersonal, sleek look, but this was was so inherently Rick he couldn’t ever give it up.

He extended it and admired it like he did when he first got it, rolling the device in his hands and smiling. He retracted it and extended it a few times, enjoying the sound each section made as it clicked and slid out of place. He frowned as he pulled at a piece of fluff stuck to one of the crevices, but it was jammed. Morty struggled to pull it with his index and thumb, it wouldn’t budge. He half retracted the telescope and managed to get it, but it wasn’t fluff at all. It was a tiny sheet of paper.

Morty’s heart plummeted and slammed back up into his mouth as he gently coaxed it from it’s resting place, careful not to rip it. It had been there for so long, _since Rick gave it to him all those years ago-_  

Before Rick got married. Before Morty got with Jessica. Before they both planted their roots deep into their new lives.

Morty stared at the writing that was definitely Rick's, just without the excess delirium tremens. Handwriting so distinct to Morty he would always notice it anywhere, he couldn't believe it was written without that little shakiness from alcohol. Morty considered it a joke but deep inside, Morty knew it was real, no one else had been allowed to touch this demo besides himself and he'd treasured it every day since.

 

_‘Rick and Morty for a hundred years was a promise._

_The offer is still there, just you and me._

_If not, that's okay Morty. I'll carry on, and you can forget about this & start a great life with these blueprints. I just want you to be happy. _

_If you want to take me up on the offer, I'll be waiting in the park on Thursday at 2am’_

 

Morty was having a panic attack, his whole body shaking with the effort of retaining this information, he wasn't sure when he'd fallen to his knees, his lips and fingertips were numb like he'd been dunked in ice, the excess oxygen making him light headed. He couldn't breathe but he was breathing too hard, coloured spots filled his vision.

“In hindsight, I shoulda put the date on there.” Rick came up and sat beside Morty cross legged.

Morty was slumped in a mock prayer holding the telescope in one hand and the note in the other.

“I-I went back every Thursday for about two months. But in the end, I just figured you'd just decided to move on.” Rick sighed, leaning back and looking up at the stars. The sound of liquid inside tin snapped Morty back as he saw Rick taking a sip of his flask. “I never actually considered you didn't even read it.” Rick wiped his chin with his sleeve and offered the flask over to Morty.

Morty took the flask and looked at the way Rick’s face was lit up with cool blues from the night sky, a trim of orange was coming up the horizon.

Morty missed the opportunity Rick left him all that time. The reason why Rick would never look at him was because Morty hurt him just as equally. After a long silence of Morty watching the reflection of stars in Rick's eyes, he finally spoke.

“W-why did you stop drinking?” Morty took a sip, wrapping his lips around the same flask Rick had all those years. The alcohol was a warm demanding presence, it bloomed the further down his oesophagus it went and the taste in his mouth was everything he always imagined Rick to taste like, aromatic, a slight hint of rose and chemicals with that distinct essence of his grandfather.

“E-everytime I did I-I kept trying to come back to you.”

Morty passed it back to Rick who held Morty's hand over the flask, squeezing tight as they locked eyes, the spectrums of their irises glittered from the stars above which shone brighter than ever in the threat of dawn.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
